


The Taming of the Sea Devil

by Letterblade



Category: Sengoku Basara
Genre: BDSM, Chastity Device, Discipline, Gags, M/M, Mouri is an enormous prick, easily readable as dubcon, like really awful BDSM
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-14
Updated: 2014-05-14
Packaged: 2018-01-24 17:09:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1612841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Letterblade/pseuds/Letterblade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had taken more doing than Motonari had quite expected, given how relentlessly the foolish pirate had pursued him all this time, to finally get him on his knees before him. But here he is, and all else is out of his hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Taming of the Sea Devil

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a requestfic for an anon, who asked: "*whispers into your subconscious* dom!Mori with any partner." This is my notp and I was really angry at myself for how much I liked writing this. Tsun.

The lock clicks.

The key is on a short, fine chain, and Motonari tucks it into his obi and settles back on his camp stool to survey his work. It had taken more doing than he'd quite expected, given how relentlessly the foolish pirate had pursued him all this time, to finally get him on his knees before him, naked and bound, wrists behind him, fastened to his ankles so he could not stand. He'd been a little reluctant to let himself be restrained, certainly. Occasionally even the Sea Devil shows a glimmer of intelligence. But he had let him, with his cock standing hard even as he grumbled with red cheeks, and all else is out of his hands.

So now here he is, stripped even of his eyepatch, barefaced with all his scars showing, knees spread shamelessly wide--and cock trapped, locked away behind heavy leather, fitted painfully tight between his legs so that he could win neither pleasure nor release, held with straps that framed his ass, digging into solid muscle, leaving him open for use should Motonari deign to give him that much satisfaction.

And cursing a blue streak, thoroughly insulting the entire Mori lineage as he spat and strained at his bonds, but that was to be expected. Motonari gives it not one whit of acknowledgement even as he rankles, grits his teeth and very, very much looks forward to the next few hours. Watches Motochika's fruitless struggle show off the muscles in his arms, set the scars he'd left on his belly years ago rippling; all his strength was useless, of course, reduced to a mere display. Perhaps he was even beginning to realize it.

Motonari leans forward to catch his jaw in one hand and shove his fingers in his mouth to silence him when the protest goes on overlong, and plants the heel of his boot on his thigh when he tries to squirm away.

"Behave, or this will end with the key at the bottom of the Seto Sea and you strung up like this for all your men to see."

" _Fuck you_ ," the pirate growls around his fingers, words garbled, and bites.

Motonari keeps his face expressionless, pulls his hand free, and tosses the key across the deck without even breaking his captive's gaze. It bounces, catches in a crack, a half-lost glimmer. Retrievable, but a palpable threat. Motochika's breath chokes in his throat, his eye widens, the proud spread of his shoulders shudders.

"You seem to be under the delusion that I find you sufficiently appealing that I'll tolerate much more of this." Motonari rises, paces behind him, grabs a handful of thick white hair and yanks hard enough to strain his scalp, drag his back into an arch and bare his throat. The Sea Devil hisses, pants.

"I'm here, aren't I? You're _bothering_ , I must be pretty damn appealing for that, huh?"

"Do not assume that means I will be patient," Motonari says dismissively, lets go of his hair--and snaps a thick-knotted cloth between his teeth before he could get off a retort. For a moment, before he manages to tie it down tight, it's like holding the bridle of a bucking horse, and far more satisfying to pull as the pirate struggles under him with a clenched roar. Motochika hates being gagged just as much as he'd imagined, and yet his hips buck against air, straining, obviously aroused. Not as much as he would hate being blindfolded, Motonari's sure, the desperate fear of a man who's already lost half of what he needs, but he would save that for later, when he was on the brink of surrender. As he'd expected--those who blindly seek battle for battle's sake are nothing more but masochists.

Motochika's grumbling, almost still in his bonds for a moment as he spits garbled curses into his gag, all stifled into nonsensical moans. Motonari paces back around, contemplates him.

"I hear no difference."

And he leaves him there as he growls--let him wait, let him wonder, as he crosses the room unhurried to pick up a bamboo cane, particularly flexible and well-oiled, cruel enough to raise red welts with a flick of his wrist, rend skin if he put his arm into it. One narrowed blue eye tracks his steps, follows the cane as he walked back to his stool and sits, unruffled. The pirate's breathing deep and steady now, fallen quiet and squaring his shoulders, muscles in his neck standing out as he chews on his gag, like he's bracing himself for a fight.

No such thing as a fair fight.

"There's something I don't quite think you understand," Motonari says calmly, brushing the tip of the cane down the side of Motochika's throat as he swallows. "I want you kneeling at my feet not because you are bound there, but because I've commanded it. Your eyes downcast not because I have dragged your head down, but because you know better than to raise them without permission. Your silence not because I have muzzled you, but because you've learned to hold your wicked tongue until I put it to use. And your foolish stubbornness is going to make that difficult, I know. But even you cannot be so stupid as to fail to realize that you'll get _nothing_ \--" and he flicks the cane against Motochika's hip, just shy of the chastity belt, just shy of the two red lines laid into his flesh by his ringblade, and the pirate jerks in his bonds, grunts, eye blinking down to watch the cane with an expression that looks a touch like fear, a touch like shame. "Nothing, until you learn to behave. I see you are starting to comprehend your situation."

Motochika's nod comes very slow, rather late, after Motonari's raised a few welts on his strong straining thighs in encouragement, heard a few very gratifying gasps of pain. The first few of many.

And the first test of his obedience. Motonari sets the cane aside, reaches instead for a heavy collar with a chain lead, one more worthy of a dog than a devil.

"Bow your head."


End file.
